


Super Sekrit Agent Faux-Connor

by greenstuff (orphan_account)



Series: You Asked for It [23]
Category: In Plain Sight
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-22
Updated: 2012-07-22
Packaged: 2017-11-10 11:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/465533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/greenstuff
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mike and Robert go under cover to bust a cock fighting ring. </p><p>prompt response from mary-marshall.livejournal.com’s post-fifth-season-commentfic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Super Sekrit Agent Faux-Connor

**Author's Note:**

> prompt: Faber, O'Connor; undercover

It isn’t an easy job, but someone has to do it. 

And that someone is me.   
  
The tip came into the office last week. Underground cock fighting, thousands of dollars changing hands. Not just a nightmare for those hairy beasts at PETA.   
  
I meet O’Connor a few blocks from the roadhouse. He’s a terrible dresser at the best of times, and these are not those times. I hand him an extra shirt, “Wear this.” 

  
He glares at me, but unbuttons his shirt and tosses it in the back of his car. I give his stomach an appreciative once over. He’s been working out. I should know, these abs don’t maintain themselves.   
  
The black t-shirt is just tight enough, I hand him a cowboy hat. Now the look is complete. I light up a cigarette and lead the way.   
  
There are a dozen or so half ton pickups lining the sides of the road and we can hear music pumping rhythmically. Not the most subtle gathering we’ve busted, but then again what did I expect. This is a cock fighting ring after all.   
  
I open the roadhouse’s front door and step inside, O’Connor tight on my heels. Inside the music is louder, it throbs in my ears and sends vibrations through my entire body. I’ve never been to a cock fight before, but this is not what I expected.   
  
Everywhere I look there are men in tight shirts, or no shirts at all, sipping at cocktails, or kissing in secluded corners. A blonde man gives O’Connor the stink eye and I grab my partner’s hand, “Come on sweet cheeks.”   
  
O’Connor mutters something about his gun, but I’m not listening. I’m looking for cocks. 


End file.
